


Trepidation

by AllTheLokisWelcome7



Series: Unspoken [2]
Category: Kingdom Hearts
Genre: Angst, Asexual Character, Asexual Zexion, Demyx & Zexion (Kingdom Hearts) Friendship, Hurt/Comfort, Kinda-not-really Zemyx, Learning curves, Skip to Chapter 2 for sweet things, Solid life advice, Warnings in first chapter
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-01
Updated: 2019-02-05
Packaged: 2019-10-20 18:40:52
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,090
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17627564
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AllTheLokisWelcome7/pseuds/AllTheLokisWelcome7
Summary: Zexion finds that his powers as a Nobody gives him an advantage over being a Somebody that he could barely remember having: the ability to speak, in a way. But being a Nobody also freed him from the frozen emotional state his childhood trauma had induced, and learning to grow up in a world of changes hasn't been easy.The most recent of those changes, a stray comment from Demyx, finds Zexion in a tumultuous world of confusion and emotion as he learns that it's okay to set boundaries.





	1. Overwhelmed

**Author's Note:**

> To sort out any confusion: Italicised sentences are someone's thoughts as usual, whilst those within quotation marks are Zexion transferring or revealing his thoughts in order to have a conversation.
> 
> The next chapter is much gentler, I promise. (What used to be a) one-shot where Ace!Zexion has a breakdown over Demyx possibly being interested in him. 
> 
> Whilst the breakdown appears minor from the outside and resembles a brief period of panic during Zexion's introspection, he still experiences a panic attack. Your mental health is of the utmost importance, so please either come back at a better time, skip this chapter, or stop reading this fic if you become affected by it. 
> 
> I've rewritten it so that it is not so intense. The concerns over entering a relationship are a feeling remembered from my teen years long ago, before I'd realised that I was Ace myself. If you are going through similar worries (ace, sex-repulsed, too young or otherwise), I hope that this can help you: I wish I had the advice that's in here when I was growing up.

Having been unable to speak since his parents died, Zexion picked up on every intricate detail in the voices of those around him. Too rough and raspy here, too sarcastic there. Too deep, too level, too _sharp_. All around him, everyone sounded wrong. He still liked Lex, though. Quiet by nature, strong and steady. But it was jarring when he spoke now, so they communicated with silence most of the time. He also liked the one who spoke with song, although his voice was just too nasally to be tolerated for long hours, so his exposure to him was limited.

A part of him was almost glad that he'd fallen. It had given him a new way to communicate his thoughts: with illusions. Words writing themselves in the air between himself and the recipient; faded or vivid images that could be moving, frozen, or interacted with; or even books fluttering around him, opening their pages as words and phrases of interest were highlighted before slamming shut and moving onto the next. The last method was his favourite, as it allowed for the swift transfer of information with satisfactory depth, and it revealed itself most often when he was excited. It seemed to be a favourite of the musician as well, although he loved them all with equal enthusiasm.

The way he spoke to people largely depended on their nature and how they best processed information. He gave images to Axel, Xaldin and Luxord most frequently, although it was his immediate response if there was little time, as images can be understood instantaneously. The walls of floating text were for those who appreciated or preferred them, which was almost exclusively his commanding officers. In fact, the Superior himself had taught him that spell with his name, and Zexion had adapted it to his greater purpose, which pleased them both as greatly as they were able to feel it.

Another ability that he possessed, known only by three others to minimise collateral damage and the risk of being taken advantage of, was a mixture of clairaudience and telepathy. He was able to put himself into the consciousness of those around him, although he caught enough of their errant thoughts brushing against his own in passing to not want to see more. Pushing that fact from his mind carefully, he turned the page of a book he was reading. Most people understood that he wanted to be alone when he read, but Demyx was not like the others.

“Hey, Zexion,” the musician murmured softly before resting his chin on his arms, which he crossed on the back of the lounge.

Tapping his fingertips against the edge of his book a few times in mild irritation, Zexion considered his options before closing it and setting it aside. When he turned to face the boy, his fringe fell away from his face for a moment, both eyes glaring at him. Demyx smiled apologetically, but continued regardless.

“Do you have a nickname?”

 _What an unusual question._ Zexion shook his head.

“Would you like one?”

Pausing for a moment, he nodded uncertainly.

“Great! I think Zexy would suit you. But, here's the most important thing: how do you want that spelled? With a _y_ or an _i_?”

A book materialised between them, a sentence writing itself across both pages in a large font. _“Does it matter?”_

“Of course it does! I don't want to make you uncomfortable.”

 _“Too late for that,”_ the words revealed themselves before Zexion could will them otherwise. Demyx looked dejected, the illusionist pitying him briefly.

“I'm sorry. I just meant, well... Names are important, you know? Choosing how you define something...”

 _“I do not want to be defined, but I suppose that the_ i _spelling is the most correct. It is the natural progression of my name, after all.”_ The sentence was formed by isolated words being highlighted across the pages, words like _progression_ being written over _program_.

Without the markings providing intent, the sentences would barely make sense on their own, unable to be deciphered. _A lot like Zexion's brain_ , Demyx often mused fondly, much to Zexion's chagrin.

Something else that vexed him was that he heard the Melodious Nocturne's ruminations more frequently than any other member, even if they were repeated statements or simply wordless songs. _His thoughts are just as loud and random as he is in speech._

“Okay, I gotcha! Thanks, Zexi.” Demyx smiled innocently, keeping his mouth shut as his mind supplied _I guess you don't wanna be 'Sexy Zexy,' huh? Fair enough._

The book between them slammed shut, making the blond jump. Zexion was grateful for its impressive size, shielding his entire head and much of his upper body from view. He truly wished that he hadn't heard those thoughts, that warmed his face unpleasantly. Did Demyx think of him that way, or was that just his mind at play, as it often was? Whether the words meant nothing or not, that was an unsettling thought.

“U-um... Did I say something wrong...?” Demyx inquired carefully, trying to lean around the book, since it was unusual for it to slam shut but not dissipate. Zexion shook his head hurriedly, turning away. “Are you okay?”

“ _Leave me alone,”_ he willed, pulling his knees against his chest and wrapping his arms around them. He forced his breathing to slow, counting the duration of each breath in his head and willing the seconds to match. Demyx's thoughts brushed against his own, a buzz of concern and fear. When he moved to touch his shoulder gently, Lexaeus gripped his hand suddenly, holding it above him.

“He needs to be alone right now. I think you should leave.”

Demyx nodded hurriedly, skipping away from him the moment he was released before turning and gazing at the both of them with that same mixture of concern and fear.

“I-I only meant-”

“He'll recover faster if you _leave_.” Lexaeus didn't want to summon his weapon, but if asking nicely wouldn't work...

“I'm sorry!” he whisper-yelled, before fleeing the room.

Lexaeus sighed heavily before sitting on the ground by Zexion, within his reach without touching him.

 _“He's gone now,”_ he clarified. Zexion slowly let himself relax, the echoes of Aeleus' voice in his mind soothing him. It always sounded right, unlike the darkness that crept into Lexaeus' against his will.

Once he was able to do so, he sat up and placed a hand on the gentle giant's shoulder. Lexaeus remained motionless save for the twist of his neck, making eye contact from his periphery. When Zexion nodded, he smiled and stood, offering his hand. The illusionist slid to his feet, put his book under one arm, and accepted it with the other.

They passed Saïx in the hallway. Golden eyes slid to the linked hands, before the three exchanged nods and continued on their way. Saïx knew about the burdens of that ability, of course. It was his job to know, and he barely said a word if it was unnecessary, anyway. The others would never hear about Zexion's discomfort from him, if they considered it anything other than a reimagined scenario from his youth.

Vexen was the other one who knew. He had been the one to notice initially, his boy speaking his first words to him; words of fear, confusion, and pain. Vexen had comforted him then, despite never feeling inclined to before. Then again, he had surmised that the boy had never needed it. He exhibited more emotion as a Nobody than he ever had while alive, for all that it remained subtle. A secret that they shared.

Like a new tool to replace one that was lost, the ability had arrived suddenly. For all that Vexen had tried to teach his boy how to manage it, it still overwhelmed him at times. After years of practice, of reading every psychology book to be found and utilising every metaphysical method that seemed to work, Zexion could control it adequately. He built walls around his thoughts, ensuring that no one would be affected by them if he didn't wish it, until they cracked and shattered like glass. The walls kept out the bulk of the passing thoughts, but he'd never quite been able to block them out completely.

They arrived at their destination, and Zexion climbed into his bed, pulling the covers over his lap as he sat. Concerns over not being able to focus on his book gnawed at him, and he shivered.

 _“Where were you up to?”_ Lexaeus asked in Aeleus' gentle voice. Continuing the book was both a part of Zexion's routine and enjoyable to him, factors which consistently hastened the teen's return to a regular mental state.

 _He always_ _knows what to do._ Zexion closed his eyes to focus, leaving them closed after he supplied a page number. Lexaeus began reading slowly in his head, the subvocalisations soothing as they brushed against Zexion's conscience. He let himself be engulfed by it, shielded against his own worries by the story.

~~~

The three people who knew of his plight inhabited the three rooms adjacent to his own; Lexaeus and Saïx on either side, and Vexen across the hall. Zexion sometimes wondered if their rooms had been arranged that way deliberately. Still, it was useful at times. Should a nightmare capture him, sleeping and panicked mind unable to control his powers, his internal screams reached all three if they were in their chambers. As such, they were able to settle him quickly. The nightmares rarely troubled him in recent years, but in the event that they resurfaced, he was reassured that the others would be ready.

It was this trust that allowed their communication now.

 _“Lexaeus?”_ Zexion questioned subtly when they had finished the book, the word pressing against the man's mind as gently as the previous hand on his shoulder.

_“Yes?”_

_“I suppose you want to know what happened?”_

_“Only if you wish to tell me.”_

Zexion paused for a few moments, hand to his mouth as his eyes narrowed in contemplation, his thoughts buzzing but incomprehensible from behind his mental fortress. Finally, he nodded. Curiosity had grown stronger than the discomfort.

_“Demyx... erm... His thoughts...”_

_“It is unlike you to hesitate. From what you've told me, the boy is frequently loud and nonsensical. What makes this any different?”_

_“Perhaps it is nothing, as you suggest. However, what if it is_ not _nothing? What then?”_

_“I must know what this 'nothing' is before I can answer that.”_

_“He indirectly called me sexy.”_

Zexion removed his grasp on Lexaeus' mind, not wishing to hear or feel whatever swirling opinions churned there. He waited patiently, despite his desire to know his conclusion.

_“When you say indirectly...”_

_“He bestowed a nickname upon me and, when reading my response, thought 'I guess you don't wanna be Sexy Zexy'.”_

_“Well...”_ Lexaeus paused, quietly considering for only a moment before continuing. _“How do you feel about it? Is your panic at the notion shock? Fear, disgust?”_

_“Shock, mostly. Perhaps nervousness...”_

_“What makes you nervous?”_

_“What if he_ does _think of me that way? What am I supposed to do? I don't fancy the idea of_ anyone _touching me!”_

 _“Zexion. Nothing can happen without you reciprocating it. Romantic relationships do not necessarily involve physical intimacy should you desire one, and you are free to reject any advances if you so choose, even within a relationship. Furthermore, since he has not told you this personally, disregard it for now, but decide how you feel first. Then, if he_ does _speak of it, you will be able to choose your course of action.”_

_“Yes... Yes, you are correct. Thank you, Lexaeus.”_

_“Always.”_

Zexion smiled softly before inhaling deeply, stretching and allowing himself to relax. He tucked himself in and listened to Lexaeus leave after checking up on him, the door clicking into place lulling him into a sense of security. _If_ Demyx wanted a relationship with him, he would come to him. And if he didn't, all was as it had always been.

Peace flooded his being as he recognised the truth in these statements, closing his eyes as he readied himself for sleep.

_Whatever comes next, I'll be ready._

 


	2. Relief

_That's it_ , Zexion decided, snapping his book shut determinedly. He had been unable to pay attention to it recently, his thoughts over Lexaeus' wise words having kept him within his own mind for the past fortnight. The debates had been stealing his sleep and wearing at his patience, but he refused to stand for it any longer.

As he'd promised himself, he was ready for answers. However, the peace had left him for restlessness as he continued to consider it, his decision growing from a desire to a need.

Swift footsteps echoed down the halls as he made his way to the Grey Area, the unfamiliar impatience causing Demyx to almost tumble over the back of the lounge to identify it. When he saw who it was, his face brightened, and he waved.

“Hey, Zexi! Over here!”

Was his volume meant to disarm him? Diffuse the tension, perhaps? The reason eluded him regardless.

Determined to put things right, Zexion settled into a seat across from Demyx, putting the low glass table between them. Demyx's shoulders slumped minutely with disappointment, but he recovered quickly, his companionable smile returning easily to his face.

“It's still okay if I call you that, right?” He waited patiently until he'd received a nod. “Good. I wasn't sure, y'know? You've been... not yourself, since I gave you the nickname. I keep wondering if it was my fault.”

Zexion shook his head slowly, offering a tight smile in an attempt to be reassuring. Demyx got the message, relaxing further.

“I'm sorry that I interrupted your reading. I should've waited until you weren't busy.” He only received a shrug in return.

“I don't know if you'll tell me what's up – it's fine if you don't. But I want to know. So that I can be there to help you out. If you'll let me, I mean.”

Zexion paused, face carefully blank as he studied his colleague. The slight movement of his eye as it calculated his sincerity spoke volumes, still-sharp despite the bags beneath it. Demyx smiled warmly at the observation, knowing that things could be worse.

“I know you'll doubt me, because you don't believe what I have to say on this topic, but I need to say it anyway. I care about you, Zexion.”

The visible eye narrowed slightly, pensive. Its owner considered him carefully, puzzling over why his adopted guardians – or more specifically, Saïx – acted as though they cared about him when they could not feel. Was there some basic instinct remaining that told them that a child needed help? But then, Demyx did not regard him as a child. His attention turned again to the term _Sexy Zexy_ , and behind his fringe, he paled. It twisted his stomach unpleasantly. It felt _wrong_. But he wouldn't know for certain until a discussion was opened, and he needed to know.

“Are you okay? Are you sick?”

 _Of course Demyx notices_ , Zexion cursed himself.

He shook his head slowly, wishing to be done with it.

“...Is that a no to you being okay, or to being sick?”

Zexion tapped against the armrest impatiently, staring him down as he struggled to answer. A lexicon appeared on the table between them, wide pages open and blank, and Zexion reached towards it. His fingertip traced a page, a blue line following its flowing font. In the event that they were being spied on, he did not wish for his words to be deciphered so easily as his usual text. Once he was finished, the book spun, allowing Demyx to read what had been written.

“ _I have been thinking more than usual lately, and I require your assistance to gain answers. What do you think of me? Be honest.”_

“What do I think of you?” Demyx repeated aloud, blinking up at him. “I think you're nice. I know that there's a lot more to you than anyone really understands, and I know that you're efficient. You're polite and smart, and even though you keep to yourself a lot, and believe we don't have hearts, I can tell that you're kind.”

Zexion flushed, fighting to maintain eye-contact. Demyx's sincerity was blinding.

“But that's not what you wanted to hear, is it?”

_How does he know?_

“No doubt about it, you want to know... if there's something more to my enthusiasm, or my kindness. Like you can't quite seem to believe it, or trust it I guess. Am I wrong?”

Zexion shook his head quickly, composure forgotten at his observation.

“I'm not gonna lie, I like you. You're cute, and you're so intelligent and secretive that I always want to learn more about you.”

Cobalt eyes closed as Zexion inhaled a measured breath, fighting to dissipate the rising panic before it could consume him. No matter the answer, he needed to hear this.

“But more importantly than that, I feel like you need a friend. And I want to be that friend. Someone who's always there for you, no strings attached.”

Demyx waited patiently, and when no answer came, he gently prompted him. “Do you understand what I'm saying?”

Inhaling carefully, Zexion corrected his posture and nodded, allowing himself to relax somewhat.

“Good... It's important to me that you know you can trust me.”

The words on the page erased themselves, shimmering lights fading into smoke. Zexion closed it and set it on his lap manually, grounding himself with its weight. Even with the knowledge he had been seeking, he was baffled. After a few moments of thought, filled with absent tapping, a short sentence floated between them, the letters occasionally shifting out of alignment.

“ _Can you read minds?”_

Demyx laughed, lighthearted and open.

“Nah. That'd be cool, though. What I _can_ read is body language. Buskers need to know when and how to keep their audience interested, y'know?”

“ _I suppose so. Am I truly so expressive?”_

“Only when someone is looking closely. Don't worry – I doubt anyone besides Lexaeus can read you.”

Zexion smiled again, more open this time if still somewhat guarded.

“ _And you're alright with only being friends?”_

“Of course! If it makes you comfortable, I'm happy with whatever you'll let me be a part of.”

Whatever circumstance had brought as compassionate a soul as Demyx here, Zexion thanked it immensely.

“ _I think I'd like that. Having a friend.”_

Demyx sparkled at him, thrilled at making a breakthrough.

“Me too.”

 

**Author's Note:**

> Sometimes I let the story take control of itself when I write, and rewrite it to make sense during editing. During the initial draft, Zexion's panic attack was much more severe to where he could barely hold on when Lexaeus carried him on his back, but I removed that section because it didn't really fit – Zexion would hate being seen like that. Perhaps I might write a child fic using what I took out one day, since it was rather sweet, but it won't be any time soon if I do.
> 
> Turns out this also revealed my opinions on the spelling behind Zexion's nickname. Zexy is canon to the GBA Chain of Memories, and most of my writings are canon-compliant, but I prefer Zexi.


End file.
